


A Walk in the Woods

by caroIdanvers



Category: Rhett & Link
Genre: Hiking, Humor, Journal Entries, M/M, Slow Burn, guys being dudes, probably tent sex, the appalachian trail, what's better than this, wilderness gays
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-12-26
Updated: 2016-12-26
Packaged: 2018-09-12 11:08:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 1,835
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9068983
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/caroIdanvers/pseuds/caroIdanvers
Summary: Follows journal entries of two men on a long and perilous hike through America's Appalachian mountains.





	1. Day 1 - Link

I'm writing in this journal for two reasons.

One, because my memory has been failing me lately, and, to quote Tyrion Lannister: 'A mind needs books as a sword needs a whetstone'. It only follows that the same can be applied to writing in a diary?

And Two, to document my extended (And I don't use that word lightly) vacation (And I'm not entirely sure I'm using that word correctly).

I'll never be sure exactly when the thought of hiking the Appalachian trail came to us. Growing up in North Carolina, we'd always heard stories about hikers on the AT. These tales, of course, were chiefly of bear attacks, poisonings, fatal freezings, and finally, this being america, murders.

That didn't (and still doesn't, apparently) seem to bother us. We became fascinated, nay, _enamored_ with the idea of being out in the wilderness. Living off of granola and jerky. Never bathing. And yes, shitting in the woods.

These things all seemed so liberating. So gratifying. We were determined to get here, and now here we are. My stomach was turning as we stepped out of our cab, as Rhett paid the driver and we got our packs. In light of Rhett's back problems, I had agreed to carry some of his gear. I was already starting to regret that decision.

Now, I'm gonna try my best not to go off on the tangent here, but for those of you that don't know, the Appalachian trail (the AT, for short) is over 2 thousand miles long. It runs through 14 states along the east coast, and 3/4 people who attempt a thru-hike drop out somewhere along the way. Suffice to say, we have our work cut out for us. I have my doubts. I believe it'll take nothing short of a miracle for us to hike the whole thing. I'm not trying to be a cynic. That's just the harsh reality of it. To be able to say I tried is enough for me.

I figure if anything, this'll bring us closer together. If that's even possible. And not that Rhett is keeping any secrets from me, but if he is, I'm positive I'll have found them out by the time we're done with this.

We decided we'd start off in Georgia and head north. That's the way most people do it. We figured that would be the path of least resistance, and the most authentic experience, so to speak. We double, triple checked we had everything we needed before checking in and starting the trek.

It's beautiful. The trees and the stagnant, dewy April air. The bright green mosses and the smell of wet dirt. It's everything I'd imagined and more. Rhett seems to be enjoying himself too -- he's off in his own little world right now. Every now and then he'll point out something cool he sees. A neat plant. A bird. But for the most part he's quiet. More quiet than normal. I'm sure he needs time to soak it all in. Me too.

Right now, It's about 9:30 at night. I just finished setting up our tent (We decided to share one in the spirit of saving money). It wouldn't be the first time I've shared a sleeping space with him, but you can guess why I'm a bit apprehensive about doing so every night for the next 4-6 months. Rhett's making dinner over the fire. I love the ruggedness of it all. No civilization for miles around. Cooking over a fire like they did in days of yore. It's just like the pioneer times but without dysentery and a life expectancy of like 25.

The most Rhett talked today was when we were filming. (We brought a camcorder, and hope to post updates whenever we go into town.)

Anyways, we did 12 miles today, the vast majority of it uphill. Needless to say, I'm proud of us. That's probably more than I walk in a month. And yeah, my feet are killing me.

I can see myself now -- tan, muscular thighs and calves. It's exciting.

I'm getting too far ahead of myself. Dinner is ready.

I'm sitting in the tent, almost ready for bed. Rhett is out cold. It was a long day for both of us. Dinner was interesting.

"They say the first few days are the toughest." He said, twirling his fork around in the bowl of ramen noodles. They were overcooked, and had taken on that gummy texture which was hardly appetizing, but we were so hungry it didn't seem to make any difference.

"Well..." I started, mouthful of noodles. "That definitely seems to be holding true for me. You?"

He nodded. "I'm narrowly resisting the urge to cut off my own legs right now."

"You want me to rub your feet?" I teased, and he rolled his eyes.

I watched as he unfolded and studied the map he'd had pocketed, tracing its jagged lines with his finger. "At this rate, we should be at the summit of Springer mountain by midday tomorrow."

I found myself keen with excitement at this. "Should be some great views from up there," I noted, searching the dark horizon in an attempt to find the shadowy peak. I saw him smiling behind his beard.

"Well, I'm gonna hit the hay," He announced, setting his dishes down near the stump where he'd been sitting.

"I'll turn in soon. Not feeling quite ready yet."

He nodded and retired to the tent. I put out the fire and cleaned some things up.

I can hardly keep my eyes open. I'd better sleep.


	2. Day 2 - Rhett

 

I woke up to Link, sweaty and clinging to me for dear life. I sighed, allowing him to stay for a few moments, partly because I was too sore to move.

I noticed that Link is keeping a journal. So I've decided to keep one of my own. It's a good idea, to his credit. I want to remember everything that happens here, share it with my grandkids and such.

I peeled his sticky body away from my own, and he groaned, mumbling some nonsense in his delirium.

We packed our things and set a course for the summit of Springer mountain, eager with anticipation. We ate a breakfast that consisted of dried fruit and nuts on the way, stopping only once to fill our bottles with water from a nearby stream, which we purified with these little tablets.

We met some other hikers along the way, and soon came to learn that hikers on the trail all go by their own nickname or 'trail name'.

The other hikers have taken to calling me 'Ostrich Legs', and Link 'Window Face'.

It feels like we're in high school again.

We're atop the summit of Springer mountain now, and as I predicted, it's about 1 in the afternoon. Link is taking plenty of pictures. The view is incredible. This is what makes it worthwhile. The rolling green mountains, untouched by civilization. The fresh smell of tree sap and wet moss. It fills me with a sense of pride and adventure.

Even at around 4,000 feet, the air is a bit thin. We might need a few minutes to rest. I'm thankful that it's downhill from here.

We did 15 miles today. We're staying in one of the shelters along the trail tonight, so there's no need for us to pitch the tent, which can only be a good thing. 

By some accident, Link managed to step on a snake and earned himself a bite on the ankle. Thankfully it was only a kingsnake, and nothing poisonous. He freaked out like it was, though.

"You gotta watch where you're goin', man," I told him as I cleaned the wound, and looked up to see him, back rigid and pressed against the tree. I could sense him wanting to poke fun at me for being worried, but luckily for him, he kept his mouth shut.

I put a band-aid on the wound and helped him up. I shouldn't even be mentioning it, but I had the urge to give him a hug. Maybe I was just a bit too thankful that he was safe. It's stupid. Like i said, I shouldn't be mentioning it.

Dinner is ready. I'd better go eat.

 

 


	3. Day 5 -- Link

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> sorry I haven't been keeping up on this yall I promise I'm picking it back up.

I haven't been keeping up with this journal as much as I'd like.

I hiked a little bit ahead of Rhett today, and I can't say as though it was an enjoyable experience. The wilderness -- true wilderness, with no civilization for miles in any direction, Is a frightening place. This, as I've come to realize in these past few days, is because it is largely silent. It's a silence that fills you to the brim. An urgent silence. That nothing within a ten mile radius moves a hair. This feeling of isolation just isn't natural to creatures that are programmed to be social.

I stopped and waited for him to catch up, and he had a look on his face, like he could tell I was spooked.

Right now it's about noon, and we've stopped for lunch with some other hikers on a cliff overlooking the forest. It rained a little while ago, and it feels good to let myself dry out in the sun.

The other hikers keep asking if him and I are married or something. It's a little embarrassing. I know it shouldn't be, but it is. I find myself not wanting to look at him.

We're about to get moving. Better go. Rhett says we'll be in North Carolina tomorrow. Our home state. Can you believe that?

We're almost ready for bed now. It feels great to give my sore muscles a rest. It was getting so humid inside the tent that Rhett had to open the flap, and the cold was startling. "Sometimes you need a good slap in the face,"  
Rhett said. I smirked at this.

I was quiet for a moment, watching him in my peripheral, and finally I turned. "Maybe we should sleep outside tonight," I suggested, and watched his face, the corner of his mouth tugged back with uncertainty.

"Isn't there too many bugs out there?"

"Oh, come on," I said, tapping my fist on his thigh. "It'll be fun. We can make up our own constellations. Like when we were kids."

"Geez, man. What's gotten into you?"

I looked at him, offended. "What's that supposed to mean?"

He shook his head. "Nevermind. Hand me that insect repellent."

I tossed the bottle into his lap, stepped out of the tent, sleeping bag in tow.

We laid next to eachother, wrapped up in our plush blankets and sleeping bags, and watched the night sky together. My eyes followed a satellite, in it's slow forever orbit around the earth. The sky was so clear, the stars in such dazzling profusion, that we didn't even know where to start our constellations.

Rhett's already asleep. I can hear him snoring away, muttering some incoherent nonsense. I'd better follow suit.

**Author's Note:**

> more to come (?)


End file.
